


What Happens After

by Taking_My_Magic_Back



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Harry Potter, Codependency, Descriptions of Dissociation, F/F, F/M, Gay Draco Malfoy, Harry & Ginny do NOT have a healthy relationship in this, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Harry Potter Has PTSD, Harry is not one of those people (yet), Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Some people get therapy, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, questioning Harry Potter, so does everyone else tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:20:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26191045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taking_My_Magic_Back/pseuds/Taking_My_Magic_Back
Summary: 2 hours after the war, Harry Potter sleeps6 months after the war, Harry Potter can’t do magic anymoreHarry Potter ended the second wizarding war with a wand that wasn’t his, because of a prophecy that he didn’t want. What happens when 16 years of trauma doesn’t miraculously resolve itself once Harry fulfills his destiny?Please read authors note inside for detailed trigger warnings, updated every fortnight
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	1. Two hours After the War Harry Potter Sleeps

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy gang! This is the first fanfiction I've written since I was 14 (10yrs ago lol) and the first one I've written for Harry Potter. 
> 
> This story is mainly inspired by my own journey of coming to terms with my trauma and finally being diagnosed with C-PTSD two years ago. It can be super hard to figure out your place in the world when you can't even figure out the mess that's happening in your own head, and I wanted to explore what that might be like for Harry and some of the people around him. 
> 
> I've written roughly half of this already, and it should be 10/11 chapters long depending on if I decide to do an epilogue. This isn't a recovery fic and I don't intend for Harry to be in any way healed or better at the end of it - at most, I plan for the end (barring the epilogue) to be Harry's 'rock bottom' point of realising that he needs to get help if he wants to keep living. I'll be posting detailed trigger warnings at the start of each chapter so you'll know what's coming - If you think that anything in a specific chapter will be upsetting or harmful for you to read, but want a brief summary of what happened, let me know and I'll do my best :) 
> 
> Please, if you see that something I've warned for is going to be a trigger for you, I ask that you don't read the content. I don't plan on removing this work from the archive so it will still be here for you to read at a time that it's safe for you to do so. There's a lot in here that might be confronting and upsetting, so I'm going to put some phone numbers to crisis support lines at the end of each chapter - there's always someone who will listen if you need them to; please take care of yourselves.
> 
> Okay, nearly done, I promise! 
> 
> This first chapter is quite short, picking up pretty much straight after the trio mend Harry's wand in the headmasters office. Triggers to look out for are: Harry noticing that feelings seem 'further away', Mention of Dumbledore's dead body,   
> I think that that's it for this one, but if there's anything you think I've missed - Please let me know!
> 
> Enjoy!!

**Two hours after the war, Harry Potter sleeps.**

From the headmaster’s office, Ron and Hermione accompanied Harry down to the black lake. They and stood with him as he carefully returned the elder wand and, with shaking hands, covered Albus Dumbledore with the sheets that not long ago had been ruthlessly tossed aside. The trio raised their wands and together, with a resounding crack that echoed like a gunshot across the still grounds, they sealed the tomb.

Harry ignored the faraway zing of distress that he felt as he slid the hawthorn wand back into his pocket next to his own, newly repaired one. He couldn’t focus on that right now. What he could focus on, however, was the feeling of finality that seemed to fall over the three of them as they watched the cracks in the tomb close and disappear.

Dumbledore could finally be at peace.

_Harry_ could finally be at peace.

It was quiet as Harry and the others walked back towards the castle. What had once been a symbol of warmth and safety, a symbol of _home_ , was now cold and crumbling. Harry was unsure if anyone that was here tonight would ever be able to feel safe on the castle grounds again. Realisation dropped in Harry’s stomach like a stone being dropped into a still lake –Hogwarts wasn’t his home anymore. How could it, when all he could see when he looked at it was the ghosts of the people who died for him. Because of him.

An early morning wind blew across the grounds, and Harry watched a stray piece of cloth – Perhaps part of a cloak, torn in the fight? – flutter and tumble across the path in front of him. He could see Ron out of the corner of his eye, his arm wrapped around Hermione as she cried softly, tears leaving shiny tracks down her face that glistened in the weak sunlight. Harry supposed that he should feel sad as well, or at least feel something in response to the last 24 hours, but he didn’t feel anything except heavy. Heavy, and empty, and so, _so_ exhausted.

The doors to the entrance hall opened as they approached, and Harry found himself stuck. All he wanted was to go upstairs and finally sleep, but Harry could hear people crying for their lost loved ones, and the injured crying out in pain. He should be helping them – right? After all, they're in this pain because of him. Harry felt a large hand on his shoulder and turned to see Ron, looking just as shattered as Harry felt, and Hermione, still silently crying,

“Harry?” Even Ron’s voice sounded exhausted, “C’mon mate, I’m sure McGonagall’s got everything sorted there. Come up to the tower.”

Harry let himself be led up staircases and through corridors to Gryffindor tower, carefully keeping his mind blank and his eyes unfocused so he wouldn’t see or think about the effects of the last few hours. Ron and Hermione had to help him through the portrait hole and up the stairs to the boy’s dormitory, where they collapsed as a group onto one of the beds. Where he’d been hoping to get Kreacher to bring him a sandwich and clean clothes just an hour ago, Harry didn’t even have the energy to feel hungry, or annoyed that he was still wearing his dirty trainers. Slightly hysterically, Harry imagines Aunt Petunia’s reaction to the scene the three of them must make. The corner of his lip twitches slightly at the mental image as he closes his eyes.

Ron and Hermione settle on either side of him with their arms stretched across his torso, and Harry tenses for a moment – he needs his arms free to protect them if he needs to. He shifts as slowly as he can, not wanting to disturb his nearly asleep friends, until he can reach his hand into his wand pocket and grasps them both tightly. Harry feels himself finally relax; he doesn’t know which wand he’ll use if he needs it, but at least he knows he’ll be able to act quickly when trouble comes.

Two hours after the war, Harry Potter sleeps.


	2. Interlude 1: Minerva McGonagall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Professor Minerva McGonagall argues, and reflects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to chapter 2! This one is the first of the little ‘interlude’ type chapters I’m going to have between ‘Harry’ chapters. My plan is to break up Harry’s story (and fill in some of the larger time gaps as the story progresses) with these interludes where we get to explore what’s going on with some of the other people in Harry’s life and how they’re fairing post war. 
> 
> In this chapter we’ll be seeing everyone’s favourite, Professor McGonagall! She’s one of my favourite characters in the whole series, so I hope I did her justice here. As far as I can tell, canon’s a bit sketchy about her age, so from what I’ve read; I’m assuming she was born in 1889, making her 109 in 1998. I’m also taking a few liberties with how the wizarding world handles mental health & trauma – I don’t know if there’s established cannon for therapy or anything of the like and if there is, sorry! I just made up my own stuff!
> 
> Also! Auror Rigby is nonbinary and uses they/them pronouns!  
> Triggers to look out for are:   
> Description of a war veteran experiencing ptsd & dissociation, and lots of crying?  
> I think that that's it for this one, but if there's anything you think I've missed - Please let me know!  
> Enjoy!!

Minerva McGonagall had had enough. Enough heartache. Enough injustice. Enough war. But most of all, Minerva McGonagall has had enough of the stuffed shirt, self-important, concernedly ignorant, mid-level ministry employees that had turned up half an hour ago and have since dried up what little patience she had left. Her chest was aching something fierce as she prepared herself to hear the same argument she’d heard four times already.

“We understand that you’re concerned about your students Professor,” the shorter of the two was trying and failing to hide their growing frustration, “but we at the ministry are required to ensure that the grounds of Hogwarts no longer contain followers of You-Know-Who.”

“And I understand that the ministry is concerned about saving its image, Junior Auror Rigby, but I will not have you gallivanting around this castle like a herd of rampaging hippogriffs and causing a panic,” the Auror’s looked as though they were about to argue with her again, and Minerva has well and truly reached the end of her patience. She pulls herself up to her full height, ignoring the sharp twinge in her chest as she does, and stares hard at the two;

“Do you really think that if any of Voldemort’s followers would be stupid enough to linger in the same vicinity as the boy who killed their leader? And even if they have taken leave of their senses and are hiding here, could you imagine they would stay hidden for long when some of the most powerful witches and wizards in Britain are currently residing in this very castle?”

“B-but what about the…” the taller Auror - Larkin, Minerva remembered – faltered, “the…Parents! The parents will be very upset to know that they are not allowed to see to their children, Professor.”

The Auror’s pulled themselves into what Minerva supposed was meant to be authoritative stances but looked to the rest of the world like two children posturing in a classroom, trying to earn clout for ‘outwitting’ their teacher. Unluckily for them, Minerva had spent many years facing such challenges to her authority, she pursed her lips;

“Certainly, you are quite right Auror Larkin,” Auror Larkin’s face contorted in premature satisfaction, “I never intended the students to be unreachable by their families, merely that they are unreachable by the ministry.”

Larkin and Rigby deflated before her.

“If the Ministry wishes to assist Hogwarts at this time,” Minerva continued, “they may assist by liaising with students’ families and myself to arrange safe travel to Hogwarts and accommodation, should they be wanting to stay here rather than return to their homes. Any ministry employee, or other witch or wizard, that is not an immediate family member will not be permitted on castle grounds unless they are already here, or they are awarded my express permission.

“I trust that the Ministry will be able to carry out a request as simple as this. Or will you require we argue about this further when I’m sure we all wish to retire to our beds for the night?”

“No, Professor, I think the Ministry will be happy to assist Hogwarts in this way,” Rigby said, finally yielding, “Auror Larkin and I would like to offer ourselves to help restore some basic wards to the castle before we leave, if you would like?”

Minerva always knew Rigby was one of her more sensible students, and she felt a small swell of pride for the person she had just spent nearly an hour arguing with. Larkin might be a dunderhead, but he had impressive talent with defensive magic. She knew that any wards constructed by the two Aurors would be strong and well cast.

Once she approved the offer, Minerva made her way through the rubble to the Headmasters office – _Her_ office.

The thought made her stop in place as the gravity of everything that happened threatened to overwhelm her. Gathering herself, she pushed herself into motion once more – McGonagall’s were from strong stock. And Minerva could be strong for just a moment longer.

***

The heavy stone pensieve was the only thing still out of place. Minera had cleared away the rest of the detritus. She’d repaired and packed away the various nick knacks and gadgets of Albus’s that Severus, the sentimental fool, had refused to remove while he was headmaster. The office was now tidy – practical, even – and ready to be used as a waystation for the masses of concerned family that Minerva was sure would have already begun to flock to the Ministry. Everything was in its place, everything but the pensieve that is.

Minerva could feel from the magical signature emanating from the swirling, silvery memories, that they had once belonged to Severus. She sat at the desk, her chest, a constant aching reminder of taking six stunning spells, gave a sharp stab of pain as she remembered her fallen colleague. Minerva knew what the memories in this pensive would show her, should she look, she’d been there with Severus when Albus finally deemed it prudent to share the horrifying entirety of his plan for Potter. She could only hope that Severus had spared the boy memories of his tumultuous past with Potter’s parents.

Without removing the memories, Minerva sent the pensieve back into its cupboard with a weak flick of her wand – She would work out what to do with the memories later. For now, She placed her elbows on the now clear desk, and allowed herself a moment to close her eyes and rest her face in her hands. Minerva let the feelings she’d been holding back all night wash over her in waves. Grief. Anger. Despair. Resentment. All rushed through her with the force of tidal waves, and Minerva let each of them out in great, gasping sobs.

***

An indiscernible amount of time later, Minerva lifted raised her head and cleared the wetness from her face and hands. Wordless, wandless magic she practiced far too much this year. The Carrow’s in particular had found horrifying glee in catching her unaware, practicing their _crucio_ under the guise of ‘teaching blood traitors their place’ if they saw evidence of Minerva mourning for her students.

Face clear, Minerva was the most exhausted she’s ever felt. She was also feeling lighter than she had in weeks. There’s power in a good cry, you see.

A good cry rarely ever solves the problem at hand, but it does the job of relieving pent up feelings better than any potion or spell Minerva had ever tried. A good cry certainly does a better job at relieving pent up feelings than doing nothing at all.

_Feeling_ can often be horrific and raw, it can be excruciating, and sometimes, feeling can be terrifying. Sometimes, these feelings can seem too big. Too strong. Too dangerous. Sometimes, these feelings are so powerful that they will surely destroy you should you allow yourself to feel them. So, they get pushed down, dulled, tucked away for later until they are so much a part of you that they now go unnoticed. But they're still there.

Minerva remembered her friend, a muggle man, who had gone off to fight in the second muggle world war. He started off only pushing away the feelings that were too big, only the ones that were too overwhelming to feel. Before long, even small, gentle feelings became overpowering, and Minerva’s friend had to numb them too. Her friend had pushed and ignored and hidden and numbed until he was safe and away from anything that could cause him any more pain. The trouble was, this kind of safety comes at the price of distance; from himself, from his loved ones, from reality.

The muggle mind doctor Minerva had taken her friend to, once he became so disconnected that he was no longer feeding himself, said that her friend was most likely experiencing something called post-traumatic stress disorder – His brain couldn’t process the things he had experienced, so it protected him by shutting down and cutting off from reality. Her friend slowly began to recover, thanks to the help of some rather incredible muggle psychological interventions that had fascinated Minerva at the time.

Wizards have spells for this kind of thing, of course. Spells that can draw the emotions out of you like pulling a pensieve memory. Spells to modify memories of traumatic events to stop flashbacks. But nothing Minerva knew of in the wizarding world could replicate the change she had seen in her friend.

Minerva worried for her students who had seen unimaginable horrors at such a young age – would normal magical interventions be enough to help them recover from what they had seen tonight? And what of the ones who have been fighting in the war for years? Potter, Granger, Weasley – even the Malfoy boy - have all been living this war for years. Perhaps it was time to revise what the magic world considered the standard treatment for this kind of thing?

With a deep breath, Minerva sat up, summoned a parchment and quill, and began to work on a plan. Arrangements needed to be made to repair Hogwarts castle as soon as possible. The repairs will take place in the summer, and at the same time Minerva will bring in new staff, trained in a mixture of muggle and magic trauma treatments. Then, once the summer is over, Hogwarts will reopen. Not only as an educational institute, but as a refuge for anyone affected by the war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, there ya go! I have no idea if any of it makes sense, but I hope it does! It’s been so long since I’ve written fiction that I’ve kind of forgotten how it works?   
> On a related note I think I’m in the market for a beta reader if anyone would be interested? If you are, or you want to come hang out on tumblr, you can find me here: https://taking-my-magic-back.tumblr.com/
> 
> As always, if reading this cause you any distress or you feel like you need to talk to someone please follow this link to find a crisis line in your area: https://checkpointorg.com/global/ 
> 
> Next chapter should be up by Sun 27th September!
> 
> Okay, love you!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed chapter 1! To introduce myself a little more, I thought I'd let you know that I'm 24 years old from Australia! I'm about halfway through a degree in psychology where I'm hoping to be able to do research in the relationship between ADHD and PTSD (because ya girl got a double barrel diagnosis back in 2018 and has been fascinated ever since). I'm passionate about open communication and education around mental health.
> 
> If you read anything in this chapter that was distressing and you want to talk about it to someone please use this link to find a crisis line in your area: https://checkpointorg.com/global/
> 
> The next chapter: Minerva McGonagall's Interlude will be up by Sunday 13th September
> 
> I'll see you then!!


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